


Where No Man Has Gone Before

by wanderingaesthetic



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Genderbending, Humor, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:04:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingaesthetic/pseuds/wanderingaesthetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco learns some things about what women want. One shot. Marco is a perv and I'm sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where No Man Has Gone Before

“Theresa,” I sighed at the tanned ankles beside me.

“ _What_ , Marco?” she replied as she turned the dial on her locker. She didn’t even look down at me.

Why do they always give the bottom lockers to short people? It’s like adding insult to injury.

“So you _do_ know my name.”

“Yes, Marco. I know your name. You’re only the person my best friend hates most in the world.”

“Really?” I asked, looking up at her. Theresa had to be one of the two or three hottest girls in our school, and right then she was wearing a skirt barely within our school’s dress code. I had _quite_ the view from my position, crouched on the floor in front of my own locker. In fact, if I tilted my head a little….

“Uh, yes?” she said, pulling out a book and still not looking down at me. Probably fortunate, as I was doing my best to look up her skirt without being painfully obvious.

“Why would Darlene hate me?” I said slowly as I continue to look upward. I couldn’t see her panties, but I _could_ see quite an expanse of thigh. I almost groaned.

Having the bottom locker has its advantages, I guess.

Theresa gave a little laughing cough and finally looked down at me. I snapped my gaze up to her face. Her pretty lips were pulled back in complete disgust. “Ummm, the Baby Ruth incident of ’95 might have _something_ to do with it.”

I laughed, remembering. “Oh, yeah.”

“Well, she didn’t think it was very funny.”

“And I guess you didn’t either.”

“Nope.”

No sense of humor at all, then. I guessed Theresa was a hopeless cause. But as she was closing her locker, a weird thought came over me. Thinking I might not have another chance, I pulled my backpack out of my locker and slid it right behind Theresa’s feet. As she turned to go to class, her heel came down on one of the straps and she slipped.

I couldn’t believe it actually worked. I tried not to look too happy as she shrieked and fell to her butt on the floor, momentarily giving me the flash of underwear I was looking for earlier.

They were blue. Light blue. Cotton, probably, not lingerie. Simple, but cute.

I jumped to my feet. “Oh, Theresa, I’m _so_ sorry,” I said, reaching out a hand to help her to her feet.

“Errrrgh!” she screeched. “You did that on purpose, Marco!”

But she took my hand anyway. I concentrated on her form as I pulled her to her feet. Easy, considering her body was exactly what I was thinking about only a few seconds earlier. The anger vanished from her face. Her eyes unfocused and her mouth went slack. Success.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Umm, yeah,” she said, blinking. “Just got a little dizzy there, I guess.”

“Well, then,” I said. “See you in Geometry?”

“Yeah,” she replied, still sounding puzzled, but turning to go to whatever class she had next.

**

I closed the door to my room, relieved to finally be back home. It was always a relief to be home after school, but I had been looking forward to what I was about to do all day.

Jake wouldn’t have been very happy with me if he knew what I was about to do. Cassie would have been furious. I was doing it without Theresa’s permission, after all. It was too bad that I would have to keep this a secret, because I was about to advance the knowledge of mankind, bridge new scientific frontiers. I was about to go where no man had gone before.

I was about to turn into a girl.

I kicked off my shoes and figured I’d better make sure my dad wasn’t home before I began my business. I checked every room in my house. Unless he was hiding in a closet, my dad wasn’t home. With that thought, I checked my closet too. Nope, nothing. I shut my bedroom door and walked to the mirror on my dresser.

Usually, watching yourself morph is a bad idea. The process can get pretty freaky, but I wanted to see this happen.   

The strange life I lead kind of puts things in perspective. Most guys my age would freak out over the idea of turning into a girl. I’ve been a fly. I’ve almost gotten stuck between morphs twice now. If my timing or luck were a little worse, I might be a half-boy, half-flea right now. Or dead. I hope one of the others would do that for me, if I had been stuck like that. Being stuck as a hawk, like Tobias? It’s a rough life, I guess, but one still worth living. Some half-kid, half-flea monster? No thank you.

Anyway, what I’m saying is that not having a penis is not such a big deal in comparison.

Not that I didn’t want it back after I was done.

Okay, to be honest, I was sweating. It was a mixture of nerves and anticipation, but nerves were definitely part of it.

And this was a pretty momentous occasion.

I thought about Theresa, her face, her hair, her… shape.

And I began to change. Theresa and I were about the same height, so that was no big deal. The shape of my face changed, narrowed. My eyes gradually shifted from brown to green. My hair lengthened and turned a lighter shade of brown. And I couldn’t see it, but I could sort of feel it, in that deadened, this-should-hurt-but-it-doesn’t way morphing feels, as my bones and the organs changed and rearranged themselves slightly. My jeans suddenly fit all wrong, looser in the crotch and too tight in the butt.

And I grew breasts. They swelled out from my chest, stretching the fabric of my worn-out Ramones T-shirt. Theresa was, shall we say, well-endowed. There were reasons I chose her for this.

I did what any sane former male would do at this point and grabbed my—Theresa’s—boobs.

Huh. Nice. Softer than I would have expected.

I don’t have to explain boobs to you. Boobs are boobs. They’re awesome.

I ceased my exploration for a moment and walked closer to the mirror. My—Theresa’s—boobs bounced ever so slightly. Yowza.  I didn’t exactly have a bra. I stared at my/her reflection in a way I never would have dared stare at Theresa herself, turned to the side, pulling my t-shirt tight to admire her slim waist, turned my back to the mirror and craned over my shoulder to see my now very shapely backside. My breath and my heartbeat were coming a little faster now, and if I was right…

I returned to the exploration of my new breasts, caressing them unashamedly, letting my thumbs brush my nipples through the worn fabric.

Dear god, that felt good. And if it felt that good through the T-shirt, how good would it feel without it? I saw no reason to wait to find out, so I pulled the shirt off and looked down. What I saw made me groan, the sound coming out in Theresa’s very female voice.

I was right. I was definitely getting turned on. Obvious differences in anatomy aside, the sensation as a female wasn’t totally different from the sensation as a male. Blood rushing to your crotch is blood rushing to your crotch, I guess.

Was Theresa into girls? Or into herself? Or was it just because it was me, Marco, in control in this body? Her instincts or mine? Or some combination?

Not that I really cared about that right then. I was busy feeling myself up, brushing my fingers over the sensitive skin of my breasts, paying special attention to the nipples, brushing them and then pulling them between thumb and forefinger, making them stand at attention.

God, they looked and felt so good. If I could have I would have licked them.

In fact… Theresa’s boobs were big enough I might be able to…

I craned my neck down and pulled her right breast toward my mouth. I could just reach the nipple with my tongue, so I did, licking gingerly like a cat. I peered up at myself in the mirror, the image easily the sexiest thing I had ever seen that wasn’t on film and only serving to turn me on further. I could feel my pulse throbbing between my legs now.

I hadn’t even gotten below my waist yet.

I shucked off my jeans and boxers and stared unabashedly at the beautiful girl staring back at me in tousle-haired, open-mouthed arousal. I turned around again to get a good look at her now bare legs and ass. I ran my hands over the curve of my backside and dropped to my knees in front of my mirror. I caressed my thighs, wanting to make this last for a few more moments before I took the plunge.

When I was ready, I sat on my heels, spreading my knees apart, I put a hand between my legs and slid one finger between the folds.

Hot, slick, heavenly. I moaned involuntarily with Theresa’s voice. I brought my fingers up to my mouth, curious about the smell.

Not bad, I thought, and licked it from my fingers. Also not bad. I drew my hand back between my legs, exploring, not really sure what I was doing but enjoying it all the same.

**

 

While that experience was certainly… enlightening, along with the many others after it, there were other things I wanted to learn from the female body.

So I took Theresa shopping. Well, I went shopping for clothes for Theresa. Or, my Theresa morph, anyway. I was going to have to give her another name because I was starting to start feeling like a total creep, using her body like this.

I was aware that I actually _was_ a total creep, by the way. But I’m a guy. Usually. And I wasn’t really _hurting_ her. Was I?

If I was, surely it was okay. I was advancing the knowledge of mankind! More importantly, I was advancing _my_ knowledge. If nothing else, I was pretty sure I would be able to totally _dominate_ once I was able to get an actual girl in bed, which I hoped my continuing experiments would help with.   

The shopping was difficult, as I had only vague ideas about how women’s sizes worked. I shopped at Wal-Mart—I didn’t exactly have a huge budget. I managed to find a tight, striped dress for her—casual, but sexy—by trying on several sizes. (I sandwiched them between pairs of guys’ jeans and morphed into Theresa’ body in the dressing room.) Shoes were a little more difficult, but I was able to measure me-as-Theresa’s feet and find a pair of flat dress shoes that more-or-less fit. Panties weren’t that hard either, I picked up a stretchy, lacey number that claimed to be one size fits all.

The bra was the hardest part. What was her cup size? I had no idea. Big. For a brief, weird moment, I wished I could ask my mom. I had to laugh out loud at the idea of walking up to Visser One and asking what bra size she thought I wore. Then I realized I was standing alone in a Wal-Mart aisle, laughing hysterically while holding six different brassieres.

Just fastening the things was hard enough. And what about all those numbers and letters?

I wanted to give up, but I pressed on. For science.

The cashier gave me a weird look as she scanned my items. I just smiled at her as I threw a pack of M&Ms on top.

**

 

I needed to take Theresa out, you see. I needed to figure out what girls liked. In guys, I mean.

So that Saturday afternoon I morphed into Theresa. I put on my girls’ things. I brushed her hair and swept it up in a ponytail. That part didn’t seem so weird, I’d had long hair not too long ago. I walked out of my room.

And ran into my dad.

“Um, hello?” my dad said.

“Um, hi, Da—Mister Marco’s dad,” I said.

“You’re a friend of Marco’s, I take it?”

“Yes. Um, I mean, no. I mean. He tutors me. In math,” I lied.

“Really?”

“Yeah!” I said with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Then I think you should know that his last Geometry grade was a D,” my dad said, looking down at me with suspicion.

“Oh… really?” I said as if this were news to me. Very sad news.

“Where is Marco anyway?”

“Oh! I don’t know. I mean, he just left. We’re going to the mall?”

“He left without you?”

“I forgot my… I forgot my… purse.”

“Alright, then,” my dad said, clearly still suspicious but stepping out of the way. “Well, when you see Marco, tell him I want to speak to him.”

I laughed weakly. “Yeah, alright, I will!”

With that, I ran out of the house.

**

 

I really was going to the mall. I wanted to do a little… whatever the female equivalent of babe-watching is. Hunk-watching? Dude-watching? Do girls even do this? In any case, I needed to figure out what would make the estrogen-addled heart skip a beat.

It was a Saturday afternoon, so the mall was fairly crowded. I took a seat near the edge of the food court, where I had a good view of the path between the arcade and the Chinese buffet.

Not that it helped. I watched at least a dozen teenage guys pass. My Theresa-brain wasn’t interested in any of them. Maybe she _was_ a lesbian.

Oh, what about _him_? My female brain finally seemed to ask, regarding a guy maybe a year or two older than me, with tight-fitting pants and blonde hair.

_Him?_ Oh come on, he is obviously gay, my Marco brain answered. Look at those pants! Look at that hair!

_You used to have long hair._

Yeah, but it wasn’t all… layered and primped like that.

_He has a nice butt, though._

Hmm, yeah, I guess.

So I guess we were getting somewhere, but I still had no information that would help me. Unless I wanted to start wearing embarrassingly tight pants. Uh-uh, no sir, no way. What good would having all the girls ogle me be if all the guys were laughing at me?

With Mr. Tight Pants out of view, I chose another target. There was a group of four guys coming from the direction of the sporting goods store. Most of them didn’t spark my interest, but one did.

Oh come on, there was no way I could look like that guy, not unless I trapped myself in morph in someone else’s body.

He was big, for one. Not just tall. You could tell he was buff, even through his polo shirt. He had close cropped blonde hair, and white, white teeth.

I could see them really well because he grinned when our eyes met.

Oh no. I glanced away and tried not to look like a deer in headlights. He was nodding to his buddies. I tried to look casual, like he hadn’t just caught me staring at him.

He was coming my way. What was I supposed to do? Nothing like this had ever happened when Jake and I scoped out girls.

“Hey babe,” he said, grinning again, and doing this obnoxious little chin jerk. “You waiting for somebody?”

“No,” I said before I could muster up the sense to say, _I’m waiting for my boyfriend. My very large boyfriend._

“What’s a sweet thing like you doing here all alone, then?”

“Uh,” ‘Scoping out guys’ seemed like the wrong answer. How the heck was I _supposed_ to answer that question, anyway? ‘Oh, I was just sitting here, pining and waiting for you to come into my life?’

“Can I sit down?” He said, sitting down.

“Uh,” I said. “Well, you just did.”

He laughed. “Do you mind?”

“Would you go away if I said I did?”

“No, probably not,” he said, grinning a little too wide and looking me over. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Mar—“ Crap, I really needed to give myself a girl name. “Marca.”

“Marca. That’s an unusual name.”

“Yeah I guess so.”

“Well, my name’s Paul. You doing anything this afternoon, Marca?”

“Yeah, my boyfriend,” I said, my brain finally catching up to my mouth.

“Oh,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “He’s a lucky guy, then.”

“I guess so.”

“But if you’ve got a boyfriend,” he said suspiciously. “Why were you looking at me like that?”

“I wasn’t looking at you ‘like that,’ I was just looking at you.”

“Nah, you were totally checking me out. Maybe we could hang out this afternoon.”

“I said I had a boyfriend.”

“Yeah? What’s his name?”

I paused, a little bit too long, Paul, who I really wasn’t finding attractive at all anymore, grinned. “His name’s Jake,” I said.

“You don’t sound so sure.”

This guy was really starting to piss me off.

“Look, I’m not interested in you, okay?”

“Hey, I just hoped we could hang out today, that’s all. It’s not some big commitment.”

Oh, I got it. I got it now.

“Okay, I know you don’t want to look bad in front of your buddies, so why don’t I just give you a fake number, and—“

“You’re really not interested in me at all?”

“Dude, can you not take a hint?”

“But you haven’t even given me a chance,” he said, sounding honestly hurt.

“Look, you’re an attractive guy,” and he was, he really was. “But you are either dumb as brick or really, really pushy. I’m leaving.” I got up to leave. I got a few steps before I realized he was right behind me.

“Come on, don’t play hard to get.”

I couldn’t believe this.

“I’m not—I don’t… I’m going to the bathroom!”

I stalked off to the nearest public restroom, which was also where the mall office and the pay phones were, along with one of those weird coin-op fortune-teller machines. I ducked in the women’s restroom. I thought about demorphing to my own body in order to lose Paul the creep, but that would have left me walking around the mall in a dress. I really should have brought a change of clothes. I stared at my Theresa-self in the mirror. I looked good. I looked really, really good. It made me want to cry. I walked out of the bathroom and dropped a quarter in the payphone. I dialed Jake’s number. 

“Jake!” I yelped when someone picked up.

“Uh, this is Tom?” Jake’s brother, the Controller. My heart sped a little. As if he could tell something was weird about a panicky girl calling Jake somehow.

“Is Jake there? I need to speak to him.”

“Yeah, just a sec,” I heard him yell Jake’s name, as if he really were an annoyed big brother and not an alien slug. “He’s coming.”

“Hello?” Jake’s voice answered.

“Jake, thank god. I need your help.”

“Who is this?”

I forgot I sounded like a girl.

“This is Marco,” I said as the shame of the situation really hit me for the first time.

“Marco. You sound different,” Jake deadpanned. Like he knew exactly what I had done, somehow.

“Yeah, I morphed Theresa, you know, from school? You can beat me up for it later but right now I really need your help.”

“Why did you—you know, I’m not even going to ask,” he sighed, and I could almost see him, rubbing his eyes in that way that made him look like an old man. “What do you need?”

“I’m at the mall, in the food court. I need you to come get me. And maybe pretend to be my boyfriend when you get here?”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes! Please, I need to shake this creepy guy.”

He sighed again. “Okay, I’m there. Give me a minute.”

“Thank you so much, Jake.”

He didn’t answer. He had already hung up.

I went back out to face Paul.

“Okay, I’ll hang out with you, just for now. You wanna buy me a Cinnabon?”

If Paul wanted to force himself on me, I was at _least_ getting free food out of it.

 

**

I ate my cinnabon as slowly as I could. Nevertheless, it was gone, and Jake still wasn’t there.

“What do you want to do next, babe?”

“Wait, I just love the frosting,” I said, scraping some from the box with the tip of my finger and licking it off as slowly as I could.

I noticed Paul watching me with raised eyebrows.

Oh. Oh _no._

Fortunately, there was Jake, standing at the side of our table, looking convincingly angry.

He looks so _intense_ sometimes. My heart fluttered a little bit.

“Hey,” he said. “What’s going on here?”

“Oh! Jake, darling, I’m so glad you’re here. I’m sorry, but you know how irresistible I am.”

Jake gave me a weird look, and stared down at Paul, who stared back at him, but not for very long.

Jake was probably a little smaller than Paul, but Jake stares down Hork-Bajir on a regular basis. Then he usually rips their throats out. Paul was in no way prepared for the sheer menace he radiated.

“Come on,” Jake said, holding out his hand to me but still giving Paul the stare-down. I took it. He pulled me up and wrapped one arm around my waist.

Oh, it felt so good to be this close to him. He felt so… solid.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll just leave you guys to it,” Paul said, and got away as fast as he could without actually running.

“You really are Marco, right?” Jake asked as we walked away. He let his hand fall from its position around my waist as we turned a corner.

“Yes. Thank you, man. I don’t know how I would have gotten out of that.”

“Why did you--?”

“I’ll explain later, after I get out of this body. It’s too weird talking to you like this.”

“What’s so weird about it?”

“You don’t even want to know.”

“Aw, come on, why?” Jake laughed. He looked heavenly when he laughed. It was disgusting. “You’ve talked to me in plenty of different bodies.”

“First, that statement just proves how utterly insane our lives our. Second, you _really_ don’t want to know.”

“No, now I really want to know,” he said with this little smirk. He stopped walking.

I just stared at him.

He stared back. His eyes, they were brown, like mine, but they were _so deep_. Like pools in a shady forest.

_What was wrong with me?_

“I have the hots for you, okay!?” I burst out. “I mean Theresa does. Or I do while I’m her? I don’t even know!”

“Really?”

“Yes! Like, I am having to stop myself from thinking about kissing you, okay!?”

Jake gave this nervous little laugh. “Really?” he said, looking down at me with this light in his eyes. Like he was maybe considering it.

He licked his lips. My heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah, this is too weird,” he said abruptly and turned away from me to start walking again.

“Yeah. And these shoes are killing me.” I pulled them off my feet and ran after him.

 

 


End file.
